


You Bleed Just to Know You’re Alive

by Mrs-BobbiWinchester (Skyeward_captasha)



Category: Glee
Genre: Biphobia, Depression, Graphic Self Harm, M/M, Relapsing, Self-Harm, episode tag: 2x14, episode tag: blame it on the alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyeward_captasha/pseuds/Mrs-BobbiWinchester
Summary: Kurt walks into Blaine’s room at Dalton since the door is unlocked and finds him unconscious on the bathroom floor in a puddle of his own blood, hair ungelled, socks soaked. In 2x14 for added drama, he goes to try and sort things out and then finds him like that
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Kudos: 33





	You Bleed Just to Know You’re Alive

“I’d say ‘bye,’ but I wouldn’t want to offend you,” Blaine snarked, trying to hide how his grip on his coffee cup unconsciously tightened to the point that his knuckles turned white. He got up and forced himself on, throwing his--almost full--cup in the trash on his way out. 

He managed to keep it together until he got to his car, where he slammed his head down on his steering wheel so hard that it set off the horn, provoking the stares of a handful of passersby. With a few shuddering breaths, he took his blazer off, straightened his posture, and put his seatbelt back on, preparing himself for the lonely drive back to Westerville. 

By the time he pulled into the parking lot at Dalton, he could feel the skin on his forearms itching. He knew he could distract himself through it, he’d done it plenty of times before, but the person he’d normally go to to sing or play games with when he felt that familiar feeling creep up was Kurt, and that simply wasn’t going to happen. Kurt didn’t know about any of the skeletons in Blaine’s closet, certainly not the plastic container he kept on the top shelf behind his out of season clothes. It was that container that he reached for as soon as he got to his room, his blazer quickly flung haphazardly onto the floor. 

One trembling hand tugging at his hair and the other trying to open the bathroom door, which was difficult with a box under his arm, Blaine thanked god that Wes was at practice and wouldn’t be back for hours. He finally got the door open and wasted no time getting his button down off, leaving him in a sleeveless undershirt. He leaned against the wall of the shower, figuring it’d be the easiest place to clean up later, and took some deep breaths as he slid down it to rest on the floor. He undid the box and unzipped the little pouch inside that he kept his blades in, sighing loudly in relief as he felt the familiar tear and sting in his left wrist. He moved the blade down a couple centimeters and sliced again, repeating this until his entire left arm was covered. The more cuts he made, the deeper they got, and the ones closest to his elbow were bleeding extensively even after he’d applied pressure with his right hand. His last thought before passing out was that he wished Wes’s practice ended earlier than it did. 

When Blaine regained consciousness, he noticed two things: the first being that his arm _really_ hurt, and the second being that he wasn’t alone. He heard a sniffle from not too far away and forced his eyes open, feeling like they’d been glued shut for all the effort he had to put in. He blinked slowly while he got used to the light, his eyes finally focusing on the boy crouched by his side, holding a warm washcloth to his arm and keeping pressure: Kurt. 

He stumbled over his words for a few seconds, his mouth incredibly dry. “I… you… you don’t have to be here,” he finally said and sat up straighter, finally recognizing the stickiness he was sitting in as his own blood. He looked down and sighed frustratedly as he realized he’d likely have to buy a new pair of pants and some more socks since these were soaked and probably ruined. 

“Yes I do. I’m the reason you… did this.” Kurt sniffled again and wiped his tears with his sleeve. “I came to apologize to you, make up after that awful fight I picked, and I found you passed out in the bathroom. Do you have any idea how badly you scared me?” He got more hysterical as he went, breaking into hiccups by the end. 

“Kurt, I’m sorry. I can deal with this. You can go. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour if you want to talk about it,” Blaine whispered with a sigh. 

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you after finding you like this. You could do it again.”

“I could, but I won’t.” 

“Forgive me for saying this, but I can’t trust that. Now come on. Let me take a look at some of these,” Kurt whispered and slowly pulled the paper towel off of Blaine’s wounds, biting his lip at how the other boy winced. He knew it had to be tugging at his torn skin pretty badly. “Christ, Blaine. Some of these are still bleeding…” He traced over a few with his fingers, exhaling shakily. 

“I have, um, butterfly closures. In a walgreens bag in my second drawer.” Blaine looked up at him sadly, trying his hardest not to cry too. 

“Blaine, I-“ Kurt hiccuped. “I think a few of these are too deep for those. I think you need stitches…” 

“No! No hospitals, please.” Blaine gave up on trying to look brave and strong and let himself burst into tears. A few fell into the open wounds on his arms, causing him to cry more. 

“Blaine, we really need to get you to a doctor,” Kurt insisted. 

“No, you heard me. No hospitals. Call Jeff… or David. Please.” He hung his head and let his messy curls fall in his face, obscuring his eyes from Kurt’s view. 

“Fine.” Kurt did as he was told, calling both Jeff and David. They were aware of Blaine’s issues with self-harm, but neither of them had seen anything more than old scars on their friend. 

Jeff immediately knelt down next to Blaine and took hold of his less cut up wrist. David opened the extensive first aid kit he’d brought with them and handed Jeff the supplies he asked for: alcohol wipes, steri-strips, butterfly closures, skin glue, gauze, and a metal fastener to secure it all. 

It took over an hour to close up and wrap Blaine’s wounds, and he dozed off multiple times. Kurt had gone back to his room to clean up, wash all of Blaine’s blood off of himself, and he brought back juice and crackers. “Have a bit of both, please. You lost… a lot,” he shuddered thinking about how much, “of blood.” 

Blaine obediently ate and drank, then asked to be left alone so he could put on different clothes. Jeff, David, and Kurt obliged, the former two taking the latter into the hallway. 

“What the hell happened?” David asked sharply. “Blaine hasn’t cut in nearly six months. What happened today that made him throw all of that away?” 

“We had a fight,” Kurt mumbled and blinked hard a few times to keep back his tears. “A big one. It was ugly… I said some awful things, and he shot back at me because he was hurt. I shouldn’t have yelled at him the way I did…” He trailed off. 

Both Jeff and David sighed, though the former squeezed Kurt’s hand reassuringly. “You couldn’t have known. Neither of us knew until we found him like that too. He doesn’t talk about it… likes to pretend it’s not real.” 

At that moment, Blaine emerged from his bedroom and cleared his throat. “Hey, guys. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go so deep; I just… needed it all to stop.” 

“We get it, man.” David insisted and wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, pulling him in for a side hug. 

“Thank you,” Blaine whispered into his chest. David joined the hug, leaving Kurt awkwardly off to the side. 

Jeff and David left after that, leaving the two boys alone. “Can we talk while I, uh, clean my bathroom?” Blaine asked with a soft chuckle. 

“Yeah, of course. Let me help.” Kurt offered a small smile and opened the door for Blaine. They grabbed the package of clorox wipes from under the sink and got to work cleaning all the blood off the floor. Most of it came off pretty easily but left rings around where the stains were. 

“I’ll worry about that tomorrow,” Blaine said with a small shrug. “Thank you for all your help, Kurt. You really didn’t have to.” 

“Yes I did. That’s what friends are for.” He squeezed Blaine’s hand reassuringly, not aware of how the other boy could feel his heart sinking in his chest. _Friends._


End file.
